My Favorite
by AndreaInspired
Summary: "Mmm. You smell like vanilla, Penelope." His breath was hot on her neck. "I think you're going to be my favorite." Extended snatcher scene-Hermione/Ron/Scabior. Warning: explicit violence & rape. Oneshot.


WARNING: This story is very graphic and dark, dealing with heavy topics such as violence, molestation and rape.

Disclaimer: In the film harry potter and the deathly hallows part one, it has been revealed that the snatcher's chase scene was cut short due to the intensity of violence and implied rape were not suitable for the intended audience. This is the extension of that idea, the first four quotes as well as the mention of Ron's beating are from the original script. I do not own harry potter and in no way is this actually cannon. It is just fanfiction influenced by the movie script.

"And you, my lovely-What do they call you?" his voice was low, suggestive and soft making Hermione's skin crawl as his grimy face neared hers. She refused to meet the snatcher's eyes as she gave her answer.

"Penelope Clearwater. Halfblood." To her horror Scabior put a calloused hand to her neck and stroked it, before gently lifting a strand of her hair to his nose. Her stomach curdled with disgust as he sniffed it.

"Mmm. You smell like vanilla, Penelope." His breath was hot on her neck. "I think you're going to be my favorite." Her heart beat fiercely inside her, adrenalin surging through her veins as she head-butted into Scabior's skull then thrashed about in a desperate effort to escape. She knew it was useless, she didn't have her wand or her wits—just pure repulsive fear as she struggled herself free. It only took a moment after she was released to be tackled to the ground by Scabior and one of his comrades. She heard Ron's voice, ragged and distant, shouting for her sake but it didn't help. Her face pressed into a pile of crumpled leaves, she began to weep, sobs wracking her entire body. Scabior spoke loudly into her ear.

"Feisty, this one!" He bellowed a laugh which joined a throng of chuckles from his fellow snatchers. With brute force he flipped Hermione over so that they were now face to face, her body pined underneath his. His rough fingers brushed a muddy tear from her cheek and he pursed his lips. "Such a pity to get a face like yours so dirty and scrapped." He put his mouth to her cheek and kissed it, whispering so only she could hear. "I must confess, I do so love the struggle—the _chase_. That's why I became a snatcher, to take things- claim things-that aren't rightfully mine." Hermione tried to best to suppress her cries, but a whimper escaped through her lips at his words. Without her wand, he was too strong for her.

"C'mon love let's go," Scabior was very agile as he unmounted her, only to step behind and hoist her up under her arms. Her feet skidded through the mud unable to get footing, and she screamed, writhing in protest as Scabior began to drag her into the woods and away from the others. Only above her own piercing cries could she hear Ron's voice.

"DON'T TOUCH HER! YOU SICK BASTARDS, LET HER GO! HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" Through her tear stained gaze she could see both Harry and Ron struggling to free themselves. Ron was thrashing like a wild boar, being forced down by three snatchers who were weakening against his wrath. Scabior groaned in agitation.

"Can't you bumbling idiots get a hold of the situation?" He shouted to his comrades, but they were too busy restraining Ron to respond. Scabior sighed into Hermione's hair "This will only be a moment, my dear" he promised quietly before raising his voice to address one of the snatchers. "Oy, hold her for me, will you?" Hermione was dropped onto the ground like a rag doll, immediately constrained as Scabior took long striding steps toward Ron. "Must I do everything myself?" He mused in exasperation as he raised his fist, cricked his neck and laid a powerful blow into the Ron's cheek. It was followed by brutal kicks to the stomach, which caused the redhead to double over in pain. Hard, repetitive punches and kicks caused Ron to groan in agony as he was beaten to a bloody heap on the forest ground. Hermione screamed and wailed, pleading for them to stop. It was only when Ron was nearly unconscious did Scabior let up his ruthless beating. He bent down to Ron's muddy and injured face, speaking with such coldness that even the most vile and sinister creature would shrink away in disgust.

"I would kill you, but I want you to hear what I do to your lovely little girlfriend. I want you to listen to her cries as I make her mine. "He smiled a sickly sweet grin before standing and walking back to where Hermione was pinned to the ground. He motioned for the snatcher pinning her to get off, only to quickly take his place. He pressed his lips into hers ignoring her muffled weep, and as he opened his eyes they twinkled darkly.

Had harry not shouted just then, the events that would have followed were too horrific to bear.

Scabior would have resumed his agenda, dragging a struggling Hermione a little farther off where the forest floor dipped down and out of sight. Among the dirt and underbrush he would have used one of his grimy hands to pin her arms above her head, the other exploring the soft skin beneath her cream-colored sweater as his legs straddled over her waist to keep her down. As he caressed and squeezed her breasts he would moan with pleasure, the sound mixing in the air with Hermione's wails. He would dip down and suck on the flesh of her neck, leaving his mark on what used to be tender, untouched skin. He would breathe her scent, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as his blood raced and his trousers hardened. After he was perfectly aroused his fingers would ever so gently trace a trail from her bosom, to her stomach until landing on its target-the button of her jeans. He would lift off her just enough so he could pull her pants off, his eyes widening with approval at the site of her knickers.

"Lacy pink. Just what I would have imagined of you, Penelope." He would grin, now resting on her knees so he could get between her legs. He would pull his wand out the inside of his coat pocket and point it at her wrists, so a rope would spurt out and bind her and he could have both hands free. She would cry out in horror as his lips touched the underside of her thighs, and he would raise his gaze to her.

"You can stop this, Penelope, I promise—all you have to do is ask me to stop and I will" His voice would be light as he stared into her teary eyes.

"S-stop!" She'd manage, lips quivering. He'd grunt, shaking his head with disapproval.

"You're going to have to do much better than that, love."

"Please, please stop!" Hermione would beg unaware that she was only fueling the fire for as she pleaded Scabior's excitement would only increase and he'd dip down to kiss her thighs again. His hands would rest on either side of her hips but slowly they would play with the edge of her knickers before tugging them down her legs.

Scabior would begin to undo his belt buckle and zip, staring down at her face.

"Say it like you mean it, and ill let you go."

"Please…" Hermione would whisper, tears and mud streaking down her cheek. Scabior, facial expression unmoving, would lean into her ear and whisper softly two, very quiet, very sincere words.

"I lied."

With only a moment to let his words resonate, Scabior would pull his trousers and breeches down and enter Hermione. She would scream as the burn and the pain pierced her and Scabior would moan, a low rough sound. She would continue to cry out as he thrusted harder and harder, pushing her fragile body into the ground. He would grope her breasts, driving into her with quick, heavy moments, tearing through her body as her voice let out wretched screams. He would claim her innocence, her beauty, her strength all the while Ron and Harry, helpless and horrorstruck, heard all of the misery and rape.

But harry did shout out, as Ron was beaten to a crumpled heap and as Scabior rounded to him, ready to do him the same, his eye caught on the very edge of his scar. He then realized he had snatched not only a beautiful girl, but the crown jewel of a snatcher's treasure—the infamous Harry Potter.


End file.
